"They say pressure makes diamonds. But it also breaks bones. Choose what you want to be."
— Unknown, Obsidian Court Records
The announcement rang like a shot through the academy:
"The first Tier Reshuffle Examination—The Cipher Gauntlet—will commence in 48 hours."
At first, silence.
Then came the chaos.
The Grand Hall transformed from an elegant dome of decorum into a panicked brain hive. Students spilled over themselves with questions, speculation, and in some cases, existential dread.
"Cipher what now?" a trembling voice cut through the noise.
"Gauntlet. Sounds like one of those near-death escape rooms."
Silas leaned back, legs kicked onto the bench, hands behind his head. "As long as it's not essay-based, I'm golden."
Nearby, a student from House Umbra was hyperventilating into a crumpled syllabus. "If it's a mirror maze, I need to recalibrate my sense of direction. Left is right. Right is wrong. Wait. Wait—"
"Calm down, Euler," someone said, patting his back.
A girl from House Umbra stomped past, her bag emitting sharp clanks. "No worries—I brought a compass, a monocle, three mirrors, and salt."
Silas blinked. "Why the salt?"
She deadpanned. "Demon mirrors."
Nyra kicked back on a bean bag she'd somehow secured from nowhere. "Half of them are going to combust from stress before the trial even starts."
A lanky boy stood before a spoon, pep-talking his warped reflection. "You've got this, Marcus. You beat a Rubik's cube in under two minutes. This is just... a human-sized one, maybe with lasers."
Nyx strolled by, red lollipop in her mouth. "I swear if anyone cries, I'm documenting it."
Lucian raised a brow. "Not nervous?"
She winked. "Already hid chocolate bars in both boots."
Silas chuckled. "She's an apex predator."
Lucian said nothing. His mind, as always, was moving faster than his expression revealed. Puzzles. Illusions. Tactical simulations. This would be more than a game.
Then the announcement came again:
"All first-year students, report to the Simulation Wing. The Cipher Gauntlet begins now."
Faculty handed out sleek, black-silver gauntlets—custom gear for monitoring vitals, neural responses, and tracking internal performance.
Lucian slid his on.
Tight.
Cold.
Alive.
This wasn't just a test. It was a proving ground.
---
"Deceit wears many faces, but the deadliest is the one that tells you what you want to hear."
— Professor Marrow, Arcane Sciences (Non-Fiction Faculty)
The Simulation Wing of Academia Noctis was buried far beneath the main campus—so deep that not even the map implants registered it until authorized access was granted. The air shimmered with electromagnetic resonance. The walls were smooth obsidian, gleaming like black glass, etched faintly with neon veins pulsing like a heartbeat.
Lucian walked in silence alongside a crowd of candidates, each step echoing off the hollow corridor. Whispers of anxiety stirred among the students.
"Have you heard about the Gauntlet last year? Someone had a mental break after Stage Two…"
"They say it adapts to your psychological profile. Like it reads your mind while you're inside."
Lucian tuned them out.
When they entered the main testing chamber, a vast circular arena unfolded around them. Dozens of transparent pods formed a ring, each one suspended over a pit of dense mist, lit from below with a cold cerulean glow.
A synthesized voice—mechanical, yet disturbingly human—cut through the silence:
"Cipher Gauntlet: Stage One – The Room of Lies.
In this challenge, you will be placed into a simulation containing four individuals.
One speaks the truth. The rest lie.
Your objective: identify the truth-teller within five minutes.
Scores will determine mental clarity ratings and your place in the academic tier reshuffle.
Good luck, Candidates."
Lucian stepped into his pod.
It closed behind him with a soft hiss, plunging him into darkness.
Then, light.
He found himself seated in a square room—no windows, just pale walls with a flickering overhead bulb. A metal table sat at the center with four chairs arranged around it. The four figures were already seated, their bodies unnervingly still, eyes focused solely on him.
They weren't just NPCs. Each bore the subtleties of real people—flaws in skin texture, the flicker of eye movement, tension in their hands. The simulation was almost... too perfect.
The moment began.
Figure 1: A tall boy with narrow eyes and slicked-back hair. He leaned forward. "I was with Professor Rake at the time of the murder. He can vouch for me."
Figure 2: A freckled girl, fingers drumming on the table. Her tone was dismissive. "There was no murder. That's the lie here."
Figure 3: A stone-faced girl, hair braided tightly. She didn't blink. "The killer used a mirror trick. I saw it with my own eyes."
Figure 4: A solemn boy, older than the others, voice calm. "I know who died. Their name was Anna Vel."
Lucian leaned back, hands steepled beneath his chin.
He studied them one by one.
Figure 1 was overly confident. His tone had the rehearsed rhythm of someone trying too hard to sound innocent. There was no grief, no detail—just a name-drop and alibi.
Figure 2 was jittery. Too much motion. Avoiding his gaze. Why deny the murder itself unless you're deflecting?
Figure 3 was unsettlingly calm. Mechanical. Her words were vivid, but... hollow.
Then his eyes met Figure 4.
Something about the way he said the name. Not dramatic. Not guilty. Just… honest. Like it hurt him to say it.
Lucian asked no questions. He didn't need to.
He repeated the sentences in his mind. Again. Listening not to what was said, but how.
His breathing slowed.
"Truth," he whispered to himself, "doesn't ask to be believed. It simply is."
He looked up.
"Figure Four. Anna Vel."
A tense silence fell.
Then the room shimmered and dissolved.
The simulation faded.
Lucian found himself back in the pod, the glass hissing open. He stepped out calmly as others stumbled, blinking in confusion or shaking their heads in frustration.
Silas, two pods down, looked pale.
Nyra leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You look like you just took a nap."
Lucian didn't smile. "It was… enlightening."
From the overhead speakers, the voice returned.
"Stage One complete. Scores are being calculated. Prepare for Stage Two."